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Thursday, September 29, 2016

Flash Fiction: Open Challenge

Open Challenge

Instant death. That’s what I’ve been craving since the hour
I’ve been forced into my solitary confinement. It’s a dank room with a single boarded up window and no ventilation. I haven’t had the fortune of seeing the sun for
days. What wouldn’t I do for just a sliver of sunshine! There’s no light even. The
bulb holder is empty for all I know.

I’m not particularly allergic to dust, having spent most of
my life in wilderness, but this dusty room has rendered me wheezy. Maybe it’s
because I haven’t had anything to eat since a long time. There was some food
upon my arrival but that was that. It seems my captors have all but forgotten
about me. I had expected instant execution upon capture or at least by sunrise.
But it has been days now. I don’t know how long exactly. You lose count of the
minutes and hours once you’ve been shoved into a prison fashioned out of meshed
iron. All I know is that my insides are screaming in agony and I’m trying hard
to not claw at my parched throat. Survival is neither a necessity nor a desire
at this juncture. All I crave for is oblivion. Or food and drink. Whichever I’m
offered first.

I’m ashamed of my groveling thoughts. Never in my entire
life have I been rendered so pathetic a creature like now. Death or food! I laugh
insanely at the two oddities I wish for. My weakened brain can all but think
about the basic animal instincts of hunger and existential crisis. So much for
evolution and whatnot!

It seems I am the sole occupant here in this prison. I had tried
to create a ruckus and draw the attention of my captors initially. That was a
huge mistake. I had hoped for execution but these people were in a mood to
torture me. They threw boiling water at me. I squirmed and ran to the edge for
cover. I had avoided the majority part of this inhuman treatment but couldn’t
avoid getting scalded some. Now I’ve blisters on my back.

The man who had attacked me had chuckled at my pitiful whimper.
He was a sadist no doubt. Before leaving, he had tried to hit me with a cane. Ironically,
the meshed design of the prison had stopped any harm to come to me. I had tried
to laugh at him but managed only to squeak out a single syllable. He mistook it
for a groan and left in a hurry.

Since then no one has come to visit me. I think they want me
to die of hunger and thirst. Have these people grown a conscience or what? If I
died on my own, my death wouldn’t be on them. Not literally anyway. Some humans
are superstitious like that. I won’t give them that satisfaction. No Sir, not
I. I’ll fight till the end and remain alive. I’ll force them to kill me in cold
blood. I want them to look me in the eye when they murder me. I’ll haunt them
as long as possible. My family will avenge my death. They’ll make sure that
these people have a very difficult life.

It’s war. It’s us against them. And I’ll leave an indelible mark.
I’ve clawed the carpet and gnawed the wood that was sticking inside my cell. Come
on humans, show me what you’re made of. You are but a few and we can match you
four to one any given day.